


I fall apart (with all my heart)

by zayninliamspants



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M, My First Fanfic, So much angst, and i hate it, fuck im bad at this, harry talks about his music, i love it, idk - Freeform, there is no dialogue in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-02
Updated: 2013-12-02
Packaged: 2018-01-03 06:50:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1067357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zayninliamspants/pseuds/zayninliamspants
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry didn't imagine his life like this when he was still young and listening to Katy Perry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I fall apart (with all my heart)

**Author's Note:**

> I just want you to know that this is my first time actually finishing something which means that this is also my first time at putting something on here so yeah, if it sucks, I'm sorry.

He always feels weird telling people about the music he listens to. In fact, it would probably be easier telling people what he doesn’t listen to. Somehow it always felt awkward and he always forgot an artist or a name of a song, which he later remembered and felt really bad about forgetting, mostly because that particular artist or song had played an important part in a milestone of his life. For example Katy Perry’s ‘I Kissed a Girl’ which he had had on repeat while going through his sexuality crisis, even though it wasn’t about sexuality or pretty boys with tan skin and a light fringe.  
  
Looking back, every artist he liked he had some sort of connection to. For example The Script, where – at a concert of theirs - he had spotted previously mentioned boy, the one with the tan skin and the fringe and the blue eyes which had stood out so clearly in the dark.  
  
So maybe Harry felt weird lying in his bed with iPod in his ears, listening to Lorde, _this dream isn’t feeling sweet we’re reeling through the midnight streets_ , so loud nobody would be able to contact him in any other way than physical. Funny thing was he wasn’t alone. Next to him laid a beautiful boy with eyes so blue you wouldn’t believe it and hair pushed back just a bit, tan arms clutching Harry’s arm, holding onto him for dear life and snoring softly against his inked skin.  
  
And perhaps this isn’t the life Harry imagined when listening to Katy Perry all those years ago, thinking about all the fun he was going to have in his life.

___

The beautiful boy who laid next to Harry, sleeping softly while Harry listened to calming music, was gone. He was still beautiful, he always had been, but Harry had never seen him this vulnerable. White pills were spilled onto the bathroom floor and the beautiful boy was crying in Harry’s arms. All those years ago Harry never thought something like this would happen, but it did and there was nothing he could do to save the love of his life.  
  
The same song from years back was playing constantly in Harry’s head. It was kind of a cliché really, _and I’ve never felt more alone feels so scary getting old_ , how he could no longer recognize the only person he had ever loved like this and how they were falling apart. They were shattered like the glass Louis – his Louis – had dropped when the sobs had taking over his body.  
  
Never did it stop Harry from loving. He would still lie in bed with Louis by his side, except Louis would no longer hold him tight and he would no longer let Harry hold him. Harry’s side of the bed was cold at night. He needed Louis there but he didn’t know anything about him anymore. Where did his Louis go?  
  
And perhaps this wasn’t the life Harry imagined when listening to Lorde all those years ago, thinking about a future with a beautiful boy with bright blue eyes and a mischievous smile.

___

It hurt, it really did. Yet he couldn’t leave. He didn’t want to leave, either.  
  
It was like they were magnets with the same pole. If one moved towards the other, the other moved away. And he couldn’t take it. He couldn’t fucking take it anymore and he was losing grip and what happened to the beautiful boy he fell in love with? What happened to himself was a mystery he didn’t care about. His life had turned into saving the one person who didn’t want saving. And it was fucking hard pretending as if everything was okay when Louis was getting thinner and thinner, weaker and weaker, paler and paler each day that passed by, _I want them back the minds we had_.  
  
They had stopped going out years ago. The friends they had didn’t matter anymore and their families didn’t care enough. Not that Harry cared about any of them. All the cared about was Louis. All that mattered was Louis.  
  
And it’s pretty fucking hard to find the one person you dedicated your life to lifeless on the bed. It’s nothing like they described it in the books or anything Harry ever read. He is too numb to do anything about it, doesn’t know whether he’s alive or dead. Could be either and not noticing.  
  
And perhaps this isn’t the life Harry thought about growing up, but he wouldn’t have had it any other way.


End file.
